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short friendship poem

ciudad que no es una ciudad
estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
de piso al techo
suavemente llorando
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
la oscuridad
el más triste del año
no me quemo ningún incienso

 



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